Jordan folded his arms across his chest, trying to ignore the wind and wet, never mind that the cold wouldn’t seem to leave him alone. The graveside service was thankfully short, and when it ended, he waited until most of the attendees had already gone before he made his way to the front to express his condolences.
She was impassive as he stood before her, and only when he said, “I’m so sorry for your loss" and reached down to squeeze her hand did she look up. At first, there was only the unfocused glaze of grief in her expression, but then, recognition dawned as her fingers wrapped around his possessively, trembling. The breath caught in her throat.
He could sense she was about to say something, but the words died before they came out. Nicole looked at her mother. Her lips closed, sealing whatever she wanted to ask away, so he said, “I’m driving back to the church. I’ll talk to you there.”
“Okay.” The response came out as a relieved whisper. He looked down at her hand, and she eased it free. The rain had picked up, and on the way back to the Jeep, he ran, not that it mattered. By the time he got there, he was soaked.
He shoved his keys into the ignition and started the engine so the wipers could clear the glass just as Nicole and her mother slowly made their way to the limo. Nicole had wrapped her arm around her mother and lead her to the open door of the limo. As Nicole’s mom made her way inside, Nicole turned and looked at his vehicle. Their gazes crossed, and a small smile flitted across her face as if she were saying she was glad he’d come.
He nodded, not knowing whether she could see it then pulled away. As he drove back to the church, the rain came even harder than before—a deluge that made him drive slowly, cautiously. No matter how much he tried to tell himself not to think about Nicole and why in the world her husband had been gone during such a crucial time, he couldn’t help himself. Her image came unbidden to his mind, and there was no getting it out once it had arrived. More than once, he’d checked the rear-view mirror, expecting to see the limo, yet the rain obscured everything behind him. It had a similar effect on everything before him as well, so he wavered nervously between the brake and the gas, never quite sure which he would need.
Once back at the church, he parked near the front and turned the engine off to wait for Nicole. It didn’t take long for the limo to ease into the lot and pull beneath the awning where Nicole and her Mom got out. That was Jordan’s cue. He yanked the key from the ignition and got out, darting toward the awning as well, just as Nicole emerged from the back seat and gently pulled her mother out by the arm.
Another woman stood there, waiting as well, and even though he didn’t recognize her, she gave him a very strange look, as though she knew him. In her arms, she cradled a baby swaddled tightly in a blanket. That’s when a few things clicked. Whomever the woman was, she probably held Nicole’s baby. Of course, that still didn’t explain where Michael was.
All the women glanced up as he darted under the awning, and while he thought perhaps it had to do with looking like a drowned rat, he was probably wrong on that score as well. As Nicole started to speak, the woman with the baby stepped toward her, trying to distract her. Nicole nodded and said to Jordan, “Hang on a sec.”
She turned toward the woman. “Sarah, can you drive Mom back to the house and watch Nick for a couple of hours? Please?”
Sarah looked from Nicole back to him before finally, reluctantly nodding. “All right. Just help me get the car loaded first.”
Nicole touched my arm. “Just give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.” Jordan leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest.
Sarah gave him one last look and shook her head. She leaned toward him and whispered, “If you hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
Not sure he’d heard right, he straightened and asked, “Excuse me?”
Instead of answering, Sarah gave him a withering look and carried the baby through the rain to a blue Honda. Nicole wrapped her arm around her mom and led her to the car as well. Their steps were slow, as though neither could feel the rain, and Jordan suspected they couldn’t feel anything but the overwhelming grief that wouldn’t release them. As Nicole loaded her mom up, more than once her gaze drifted to him, as though she were afraid he'd leave before she could talk to him.
Still, he kept puzzling over Sarah’s response, unsure what to make of it even as Nicole headed back, now jogging toward him despite the strappy sandals she wore. He was tempted to tell her to be careful because the Nicole he’d known was far from graceful and probably would have fallen in the rain had she tried that.
Instead, Sarah jogged up next to him and lingered there, her breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps. As he stared at her, he could see the fine lines settling around her eyes, probably more from the stresses of the last week than actually showing her age. She seemed pale and vulnerable, which only troubled him all the more.
She took a deep breath and swallowed hard. “How did you know about my dad?” Her voice twisted at the end, as though she were barely holding the floodgates of her pain shut.
He shrugged and watched her bat her bangs back as rainwater dripped from them, threatening to fall into her eyes. “I was on my way to see my parents. I stopped to get coffee and read the newspaper. I just happened to spot the obit. Nicole, I am so sorry.” He touched her shoulder.
“That makes two of us,” she managed, appearing even more shaken. “Can we go somewhere? Please?”
“Of course.” He stepped toward her and without realizing it set his palm at the middle of her back as he nodded toward the Jeep. “Looks like we’re going to have to make a run for it again. You up for that?”
She nodded. “Ready whenever you are.” The words sounded playful enough, but she seemed worn out.
“Let’s go.”
The two darted into the rain, and he ran to her side first to unlock her door before getting in himself. For a moment, he just sat there, dripping all over the place. Then he shoved the key into the ignition. “Gotta love this weather.”
Nicole brushed the hair from her face. “If you say so.”
“So where do want to go?”
“Some place quiet and dry?” She folded her arms across her chest as though trying to disguise the fact she was shivering.
Figuring the engine was still warm enough from his earlier drive, Jordan flipped on the heater. “Maybe that will help.” He pulled out of the lot and headed to a small Italian restaurant where he remembered a quiet and comfortable atmosphere, probably two things she could use more than anything.
Although Jordan tried to think about what he would say to her, his mind kept coming up blank, and she stared out the window, a million miles away. When they finally pulled into the restaurant lot, he saw a handful of cars, which meant they weren’t going to have to worry about overcrowding.
“You ready?” he asked, nodding toward the entrance.
“Yeah.” They got out and rushed through the rain, and once they'd stepped into the foyer, they both batted at their hair. Rain spattered the floor around them, and they were grateful the restaurant was warm and dry.
Jordan laid his hand at the middle of her back and nudged her towards a sign that read, “Please wait to be seated.” A short hostess walked up to them.
“How many?”
“Just us,” Jordan said, watching the hostess pick up menus and silverware.
“All right. Follow me.” She lead them around various tables to a booth toward the back, where Nicole took one side and he slid into the other. “Your waitress will be with you in a moment. Enjoy your meal.”
“Thank you,” Jordan said, picking up his menu. He realized Nicole hadn’t touched hers, and judging by that faraway look in her eyes, she wasn’t about to, either. “Not eating isn’t going to help. It’s only going make you feel more run down and help get you sick.”
“I’m just not hungry,” she said, closing her eyes as though suddenly seeing something she couldn’t bear to look at.
She gave him an almost imperceptible nod and picked up the menu as the waitress appeared to take their drink order. They both ordered water while considering other choices. Finally, when she had reached her decision, Nicole closed the menu and looked at him.
“I was surprised to see you again.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I was kind of surprised to be there. I’m just sorry we had to meet again under such difficult circumstances. I can’t begin to fathom your loss.”
Sighing, she swallowed the tears that wanted to come. “It’s not so much about me, Jordan. I’m worried about my mom. My parents were married a long time, and this is going to be hard for her. She depended on him for so much, and now he’s just…gone.”
Even as Nicole spoke, she recognized doing so would be her undoing. She just couldn’t seem to keep it from coming out, and then the tears came flooding to her eyes, paralyzing her. She tried to cover her face but knew Jordan would still see, which made the pain even worse.
Jordan quickly scooted around to her side of the booth. He sat next to her and slipped his arms around her, burying her head against his chest. Perhaps he couldn’t stop the pain, but he could at least give her a safe and private place to grieve. More than once, he waved the waitress away, mouthing that they would order in a minute, and right then and there he didn’t care how long it took for Nicole to rebound enough to pull back on her own.
Jordan rubbed her back slowly, waiting. Part of him felt he had been waiting forever to hold her, while the other part kept reminding him about Michael Adams and the ring on her finger. Whatever was going on on that front, he had no business inserting himself into the middle of it, and he damned well intended simply to stay an old friend who wanted nothing but the best for Nicole. That part was true enough, after all.
When Nicole finally withdrew, her face was red and splotchy, and she brushed her hand across her cheeks, trying to wipe away the last of the tears. She looked at him with eyes that appeared a light, luminous brown.
“You okay?” he finally asked.
“I guess as okay as I can be.” She shook her head. “I’m probably a mess.”
He shook his head. “No, not really, but if you want to wash your face, it might help. Just tell me what you want, and I’ll order for you.”
“Spaghetti and meatballs, with a salad and Italian dressing.”
“You got it.” He slid back to his side while she walked to the bathroom, and he watched her go, amazed by how she looked so much the same as she had since the last time they'd seen one another. He shook his head. So much had changed on all fronts since that day, and more than once, he wished he could go back and make different choices. It would have been so much easier.
The waitress came, and he ordered for both of them before Nicole slipped back into the booth a bit later, her face less splotchy. He could tell by the way she was averting her gaze she wasn’t comfortable with the emotions swirling through her, and he didn’t blame her. He just wished he knew some way to make this easier for her.
“I ordered for us,” he said, taking a sip of his water.
“Thanks.”
For a moment, he debated on whether his next line of questions was too personal, but in the end, he asked, anyway. “So where is your husband? I thought he would be at the funeral.”
“He couldn’t get away from work,” she said, unwrapping her utensils and setting her napkin in her lap. Jordan got the distinct impression doing so was more about keeping her hands busy than anything else.
He wanted to explode at that excuse. He didn’t have a clue what Michael Adams did to support his family. He couldn’t even venture a guess. But he knew anybody could get off for a death in the family. It didn’t matter what line of work he was in. It mattered more whether he'd even wanted to get off, which clearly he hadn't.
Nicole must have felt him stare because she finally looked up. “It’s no big deal, Jordan. I’m doing okay.”
“Really? Because I think you might need a little help, and he should be here.”
Chewing her bottom lip, Nicole knew he was right. Michael should have been here. More and more, she was beginning to feel as though she had a roommate, not a spouse, and it was getting to her, but dragging that up right now wouldn’t ease the pain in her heart over losing her dad. So she focused instead on a different topic.
“So what happened between you and your wife?”
Unprepared for that, Jordan felt his whole body stiffen. “I wish I knew, Nicole. God, I wish I knew.”
The waitress appeared with their salads, and for a moment there was a deep silence between them as though neither knew what to say. Then Nicole looked at her food and took a bite, suddenly more grateful to be near Jordan than she could have expected.
“Nothing has turned out quite as I expected, you know?” She brushed the hair from her eyes and focused on the salad in front of her.
Jordan unwrapped his silverware. “Join the club. This isn’t the life I had in mind, either.” He reached out and took her hand. “But there is something I want you to keep in mind, okay?” He waited until she'd nodded before continuing. “No matter what is going's on, you can always call me, no matter how rough things get. Okay?”
Nicole stared at him with those beautiful eyes, and for a moment, it seemed as though the rest of the world had ceased to exist.
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Chapter Thirteen
“It was my father’s funeral, Michael. You should have been there.” Nicole stared at her husband where they both sat at the prepared table. Between them were plates of eggs, sausage, and toast, but Michael was the only one eating. As usual, not much bothered his appetite, including a stressful conversation.
“The fact that it was your father’s service isn’t lost on me, Nicole. But I have a job that requires extensive travelling. Hell, I was travelling when we met, if you recall. As much as my absence upsets you, one of us does have to work and pay the pills. That happens to be me.”
He reached out and speared another sausage link, his gaze never meeting her eyes.
Nicole scooted the chair back and strode around the kitchen. “You are amazing. Truly amazing.” She shook her head and paced, her fingers wanting to grab something, anything, and just throw it to get some of the fury out. Instead, she turned to get a glass out of the cabinet so she could pour herself some juice.
For once, he looked up from his meal. “What exactly do you expect from me? You like this nice house and the life we lead. Well, that does come at a cost, and we both know it.”
She whirled, her grip so tight on the glass that her knuckles turned white. “What do I expect? Are you kidding? I expect that when I’m close to delivering a baby, your baby, that you stick around just in case I go into labor. I expect that when a family member dies, especially someone like my dad, that you cancel whatever important plans you might have to be with me.”
He shook his head and kept eating. “Yeah, well, with my job, you expect a lot, Nicole, and I can’t always give you that. I told you from the start that I was out of town a lot.”
The juice tumbled from her hand, and the small bit of control she was still exercising snapped as she hurled the glass against the wall, sensing that they had reached an impasse. Michael was more worried about his job than his marriage, and Nicole didn’t know how much more she could take of it.
As she started to fly out of the room, Michael looked up and said, “You might want to get that glass up before you step on it and get some in your feet. We both know you never wear shoes in the house.”
Instead of answering, she blurred past him and ran upstairs and into their bathroom, quickly locking the door. It wasn’t that she expected Michael to come after her
and reasonably talk this out. He didn’t see the need. He wasn’t the one ‘given to temper tantrums’ as he called them, and he would never understand Nicole’s anger at his absence. How many times had they been over this and over this? Nothing good ever came of it. Michael maintained his jovial attitude the whole time he remained home as though he expected with enough time and distance from the fighting that Nicole would come to understand his far more mature view on things.
Even though she tried to keep her emotions in check, they ended up flooding down her face as she leaned against the door, grateful for the distance between the two of them. She raked her fingers through her hair and slowly slid down the door until her bottom touched the floor. Yet even there she could not escape the pain ripping through her. She brought her knees to her chest and folded her arms, giving her head a place to rest until the tears finally stopped, and even though she waited in hopes that Michael might actually come upstairs to apologize, God forbid, the moment she heard the engine of his vehicle start, she knew better. Michael just didn’t operate on feelings.
She leaned back and smacked her head against the wall, one pain to take away the remnants of the other as the hurt welled up inside of her. Of course another thought came to her, one that should have come sooner but she had always rejected it before it ever saw the light of day. Trouble was it seemed to be getting more and more plausible.
Could Michael be having an affair? Is that what was keeping him so busy?
She stiffened at that thought. Could he really be that cold inside? She forced herself to stand up and peer at her reflection. The woman she saw looking back was pale, thin, and unkempt—so far removed from who Nicole had planned to be that it wasn’t even funny. For months she’d been telling herself that it came with being pregnant. Now that the baby had come she found herself saying that it came with being tired. But this wasn’t who she was. She knew that much.
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